


It's a Blunderful Life

by orphan_account



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - It's a Wonderful Life Fusion, Canon Compliant, Dark Side of Dimensions, Kind of a dream and kind of a vision sequence, Kinda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-22 23:48:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Kaiba fails to resurrect the pharaoh after completing the puzzle in Dark Side of Dimensions, he wishes to live a life where he had never met Atem. Unfortunately, he wasn't careful with his wish and it ends up being granted, showing him where he'd be in life without the circumstances that lead to their first meeting.





	It's a Blunderful Life

**Author's Note:**

> I called it Go Prep after the game "Go" since Domino is named after the game "Dominos." Also in keeping with the naming theme of "game, set, match" (Yugi, Seto, ___) I gave Seto the last name "Machi" which funnily enough means "True Happiness." Kind of an ironic name.
> 
> This is a stream of consciousness one-shot without a point. Idk I just thought, "Hey, what if Kaiba had an It's a Wonderful Life experience and was never adopted by Gozaburo? That'd be pretty fun, huh?"
> 
> So anyway. Here you go. Enjoy?

From childhood, Kaiba had spent his whole life fighting for the right to live. His world was defined by that fight. He outgrew childhood at a startlingly young age, and everything that went with it. His heart was too full of plans and schemes and scars to leave room for much else. Childish things such as wishing fell through the cracks and were forgotten. But holding the lifeless puzzle in his hands, he felt a glimmer of recollection.

“He’s gone, Kaiba,” Yugi said, his voice echoing in the stadium.

Kaiba heard nothing after that. Yugi had more to say, but his words were murmurs lost in the background. After Yugi had assembled the final piece of the puzzle, Kaiba had snatched it from the air. Now, the whole of his attention was focused on that empty golden shell. He stared in disbelief. He removed the central piece, felt the carved eye with his thumb, and knew that nothing was looking back through it. He inserted the piece again. And again. And uselessly again, knowing nothing would come of it. The millennium item sat cold in his fingers, but still he had to try. There was nothing else to do and he could not accept this reality.

A hot tear fell and slipped down the golden eye. Kaiba watched his reflection, eyes red. His hand clenched around the final piece until it dug into his skin.

“You coward!” he bellowed. He slammed his fist against the stage, cracking the projected glass.

Somehow, Yugi knew he wasn’t addressing Atem.

He cautiously approached Kaiba and knelt beside him. Kaiba flinched away from the warmth of his living hand.

“I’m tired of this,” Kaiba whispered. He opened his hand, staring once more at the lifeless eye. “They’ve all gone—all of them. And I had to watch every time.”

“Kai—”

Kaiba slapped his arm away as Yugi tried once again to comfort him. “Don’t do that!” he shouted. “Don’t you ever do that!”

“Kaiba, I’m sorry.” Yugi backed away as Kaiba continued to advance.

“They always did that! In the hospital with my mother, and again with my father! In the blimp after Noah! I don’t want your comfort, Mutou! I’ve never wanted it. It does _ nothing _.”

Kaiba rubbed his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. “I only ever wanted … but there’s no point in wishing now, is there? You used the puzzle’s wish. It’s not like a genie where just anyone can make a wish. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. I can’t wish him back, just like I can’t wish for the rest of them. And there’s no … ” He closed his hand and held it to his chest. The piece was still cold. “There’s no wishing away the rest of it.”

Yugi clenched his fists at his side. He understood. “There’s nothing wrong with letting yourself feel, Kaiba.” It still hurt after all this time. Nobody understood better. But no, perhaps Kaiba hurt more. Yugi had his moment of closure. Kaiba had none.

“That’s not what life taught me,” Kaiba spat. Sentiment was bitter on his tongue. “Believe me, I know just what kind of person I’ve become since taking on the Kaiba name. There are times when I think I would have been better off living another life. I wish I could live that life: a life without loss.”

Kaiba inserted the piece again, clutching the whole puzzle in his hand. He looked down at it in frustration.

“I wish … ” he said. Maybe if he’d grown up in that forgotten, happy home, he’d have learned to accept losses. Maybe he wouldn’t equate failure with death. He’d failed to protect so many people. He’d failed to keep his one friend by his side.

He squeezed the puzzle in his hand and shut his eyes. His jaw clenched. He wished he’d never met Atem. If he had to lose him now, there was no point in ever coming together. In his anger, he flung his arm out and roared, hell-bent on throwing the puzzle as far as it would fly. At least then he’d have one last thing to chase in his future.

Then his hand hit something hard.

Kaiba opened his eyes. The buzz of the stadium had vanished. It was replaced by a monotone alarm and the comfortable baritone of conversation that drifted from beyond the walls. He was staring up at a white ceiling, his fist against a wall.

Was this a glitch in the solid vision system? He looked around at the strange room he sat in. It was an ordinary sort of room: there was a low shelf full of books, a desk and chair covered with papers and various pens and tools, the bed he sat on, the bedside table—all the things you’d expect to see in a young man’s room. He looked at his fist. The puzzle was nowhere to be found.

“Seto? Was that you?”

Kaiba turned to look at the door as it slowly opened. Mokuba’s worried face poked through.

“I heard a loud bang,” he said. “Did you knock over a book or something?”

Kaiba stared, dumbfounded.

Mokuba waited, hanging on the doorknob. “You look kinda pale. Should I ask mom to call you in sick today?”

Kaiba blinked, trying to focus. Had Mokuba just said—?

“Hey, mom!” Mokuba hollered. “Seto doesn’t look right! Can you come here!”

Kaiba heard footsteps in the corridor. His eyes widened. The window by his bed, the closet in the corner; these things were not new to him. He had the fleeting memory of another bed that used to sit where his desk was. This was the room he and Mokuba shared an eternity ago. Then his mother’s face appeared through the door. The first new thing he saw were two little wrinkles in the corner of her eyes.

“Are you alright, Seto?” she asked. She put her hand against his forehead. “You feel alright, but you look pale. How’s your stomach?”

Kaiba looked up at his mother, taking in the color of her dark eyes. He never even had her picture, all those years. He’d been so young when she had gotten sick; he could never remember her so well. Now he knew he took after her.

Kaiba wrapped his mother in his arms and held her tightly. “Mom,” he said. When had he last said that word?

She let out a little surprised, “Oh!” and laughed. She hugged him back and patted his shoulder. “That’s enough now. I left your father alone in the kitchen. If I don’t get back, he’ll let everything get overcooked.”

“Is he okay?” Mokuba asked. He stood in the doorway, his nose tucked in his shirt.

“He’s fine. I think it’s just nerves.”

Mokuba tugged his shirt back down and grinned. “Somebody stayed up late again studying, huh?” Mokuba sauntered across the room and snatched a large book off of the bedside table before flopping onto the bed. “Advanced Engineering and Mathematical Theory,” he read. “No wonder you look like such a wreck; this stuff would give me nightmares for life.”

Kaiba snatched up the book and flipped through it. It was a simple college textbook. As he looked, he noticed sticky notes and bookmarks, little equations in the margins written in his own hand. He’d moved past this level years ago, long before he’d even entered high school. Then, he realized, he must still _ be _ in high school.

“Hurry up and get dressed or you’ll miss your train. Breakfast will be ready by the time you’re downstairs.”

Mokuba jogged after her as she left the room. “Hey, if I set the table and clear up after, _ and _ help with dinner, can dad drive me to the arcade tomorrow in town?”

“Why don’t you ask your brother to take you on the train?”

“He’s already doing stuff with his group. He’ll be busy until Wednesday, after the presentation.”

Kaiba, in his haze of confusion, tried to think of what this presentation could be, his priorities scrambled by the information being suddenly flung around him. He looked down at himself in his pyjamas, in his childhood bedroom. He found a phone at his side, the alarm having automatically switched to sleep mode after being ignored so long. He caught his reflection in the shiny black surface of the screen. He looked the same as always, only perhaps more well rested. He unlocked his phone—luckily his password was the same in whatever alternate dimension he’d been sucked into—and he opened every app he could think of to gather information. It was the same day, the same year. He scrolled through his photos. Normally he expected to see pictures of KaibaCorp games prototypes and his various notes. There were certainly notes: pictures of textbook pages and homework assignments on a chalkboard. What was most startling was the number of people he saw. A girl with long white hair, dressed in a brown sundress sitting on a park bench. A boy with unusual purple hair, heavy eyeliner, slouching in a dark hoodie beside her. Mokuba smiled between them, waving a popsicle in the air.

These two figures appeared again and again, sometimes posing with him. His wallpaper was a picture of the three of them, dressed in white high school uniforms, crowded in front of a wall. Embedded in the wall was an insignia and plaque for a school. He recognized it as the school that he’d enrolled in before transferring to Domino. Rather prestigious. He looked around his simple bedroom. It wasn’t too shabby, but he probably got in on scholarship. Those tuition fees were not the most affordable.

Scrolling through his contacts, he found a number of names he didn’t recognize. However, those two people—friends, he supposed—struck him as familiar. He found their pictures under two starred contacts. Kisara and Mahad.

“That girl from Egypt and the Dark Magician?” he scoffed. This was all becoming more and more ridiculous. It was his habit to reject the mere suggestion of magic for so long that the scorn came out naturally, but he reined himself back in. He’d learned better in the last few months.

His list of friends was pretty short, unsurprisingly. He opened his favorites. The first two contacts gave him whiplash. Mom and dad. He opened his father’s contact. Long ago, he’d memorized the same number in case of emergencies. To this day he remembered the little tune when the phone dialed. The picture the contact displayed showed a man with black hair. He had serious eyes, but he smiled gently. He looked kind. It was the farthest thing from Gozaburo Kaiba.

_ I left your father alone in the kitchen. _

Kaiba turned toward the door. His mother had gone through that door. She had gone to see her husband, his father. His family was together downstairs. They’d be eating breakfast together. His mind conjured an image of them at the table—a memory he’d never lived through. He slipped off the bed and walked over to his closet. He knew what it would look like on the inside. He suddenly had memories in this place. He ran his hands over the shirts hanging in his closet and sniffed at the sleeve of one, feeling hot tears gather in his eyes. He remembered this smell. He’d lost it long ago when his mother had died. His father had bought a different brand of laundry soap.

This was real. It was all real. But to his horror, he realized his mistake. He’d made the wrong wish.

“No,” he said. It dawned on him. Maybe if this was real, if everything truly had reset, there might be a different ending after all. He might be able to set things right.

After a difficult breakfast spent trying to keep his overwhelming emotions under control, he’d packed up his bag for school. It was a difficult thing. His mother and father were here, alive. He and Mokuba had never become orphans. After a bit of fumbling in his room, he’d managed to remember what his classes were. He’d been about to search a route for his university when the memory came back to him. Or did this memory _ come _ to him? Trying to sort out the nuances of this wish was giving him a headache. He had memories, but everything still felt new and confusing. He wondered if there was another Kaiba living in the world he’d come from, or if his old world had disappeared and been replaced with this one. He knew what he’d be thinking about before bed that night.

On his way to the station, he began taking notes. No dead parents meant no orphanage, which meant no Gozaburo. Despite that, he still twitched when his father patted his shoulder after breakfast. How wonderful to suffer a trauma he’d never been through. He scoffed and shook the thought away. With Gozaburo came a number of advantages that directly influenced his life. He’d had the money to pursue his duelling hobby. In this world, he still had a deck, but it was made of primarily common cards. The only Blue Eyes to be found was in a frame on his wall. No Gozaburo meant no money. That meant no Blue Eyes White Dragons, no tournaments, and no duelling reputation. He searched his new memories and recalled only small tournaments held in local shops.

“Alright then. No money and no Blue Eyes. I can’t have duelled Yugi for the fourth card.” He smirked. No loss. Not that he had anything to lose now if he wasn’t a duelling champion. “Without that loss, Pegasus would have no reason to look into Yugi and invite him to Duellist Kingdom. No. There was _ never _ a Duellist Kingdom here. I didn’t invent the holograms and partner with—but Siegfried. That’s right; I heard about it at the hobby shop. Without me in his way, Siegfried partnered with Pegasus and … ” Kaiba groaned and scratched his head. He was trying to go about this logically from what he knew in his world, but every new thought brought a new memory along with it to fill in the blanks.

“Starting again. We still never had that duel, so Yugi ought to be off the radar. No duel disk means limited mobility, and further, less accessibility. The duel disk’s release and Battle City brought Duel Monsters out into the public eye. No Battle City means the Egyptian God Cards never came together.”

He scribbled another note on his paper. It was possible Ishizu found another person with a reputation like his to host a tournament—Pegasus, maybe. Or Siegfried. They both had the money and the influence to make it happen. Had Siegfried developed a duel disk? No, he would have seen it in some shop or other by now. So Duel Monsters was still a niche hobby. Would that make it easier for the rare hunters to find Yugi?

Kaiba had a moment of panic, remembering the doom that nearly came in Marik’s wake. Then he realized that the world was still turning. Something had to have changed if things all turned out fine. After all, the time was the same as when he’d left his own world, only set back to morning. The whole ordeal at Battle City was a couple years back. The question was whether Yugi had ever collected the cards or not, revealing the pharaoh’s past.

That settled things. His top priority was to find Yugi Mutou and get things sorted. He knew the pharaoh’s true name. It would be a simple matter to bypass the affair with the Egyptian god cards with that knowledge. In this new life, he had the opportunity to change things. He could keep everything.

His feet had instinctively taken him toward the train station, but he stopped himself. This wasn’t his life. He didn’t have to do any of this. He didn’t need to bother with some school that offered him nothing he didn’t already know. The moment his feet stepped into the station, he marched toward the ticket machine and purchased a fair to Domino City. He could steal this life and remake it, taking the best things from each. He still knew how to build a duel disk. He could easily rewrite his programs from scratch. He could start again with his family, partner with Pegasus, rebuild his fortune from the bottom.

His fortune. He stopped in his tracks. Without his takeover to send him through the office window, Gozaburo would still be alive and in charge of KaibaCorp. All the work he’d done to rebuild KaibaCorp would be gone. It’d still be a weapons manufacturing and design company. Years of their involvement in wars overseas would not have been prevented. Even with intimate knowledge of KaibaCorp’s inner workings, he doubted it would be possible to take it down from the outside. And even if he did, he couldn’t just erase all those years of damage. He gripped his paper, feeling a terrible shiver run through him. What had he done?

“Seto!”

Kaiba turned at the sound of a cheerful voice and found himself wrapped in the arms of the girl from Egypt. “Kisara,” he said, confirming it to himself more than addressing her.

“Good morning! I thought you’d already be down at the platform. I caught you early.”

It was strange standing in front of her now. He remembered her in Egypt as a stranger who held the power of the Blue Eyes White Dragon. Seeing her here, she was a real person. She was a friend: a neighbor who moved in when he turned nine. Someone he ate lunch with and took to the movies and arcade. He remembered times when he’d wanted to kiss her after a night out alone. Those memories felt distant.

Suddenly, this new life frightened him. There were new consequences here and new rules. This detachment had the ability to upturn this life. He’d been thinking of himself as Seto Kaiba since he woke up, but he wasn’t a Kaiba anymore. He had a different name.

“Hey, Machi. What’s with the ticket?”

Seto turned to face this familiar stranger. Here was the purple-haired punk from the picture: Mahad. A schoolmate he’d been assigned to sit next to for so long that they’d become friends. He was sipping an iced coffee and he looked as if he hadn’t slept that night. Or maybe if was leftover eyeliner. His uniform jacket was left open and looked more than a little wrinkled. What surprised Seto most was the informal, care-free attitude he expressed. He remembered Mahad as someone more reserved and polished. He groaned and rubbed his temple. What a wonderful time for his ancient memories to come through. He had to balance _ three _ timelines. Whichever life this was, it was going to be hell.

Seto did what he could to calm himself down. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of a panic attack with all the new information coming at him. He had to remain calm, casual. If he tried to explain to anyone what had happened to him, they’d call him insane. Not too long ago, he’d have agreed with them.

“I’m ditching class today,” he confessed, keeping his voice light. “I’m going into Domino to find someone.”

“A girl?” Mahad asked, taking a sip.

Kisara gave him a withering look. “Like he’d skip school for something like that.” She looked up at Kaiba, eyes shining with excitement. “Is it an interview for an internship? It must be important if you’re not going to class.”

“If he was going to an internship, he’d have said ‘meet’ not ‘find’. He said he was going to find someone. Stalking a cute model, Seto?” Mahad teased.

“An ancient Egyptian pharaoh, actually.”

Mahad chuckled and passed Kisara his coffee. “Going to the Domino Museum.” Mahad’s voice was laced with curiosity. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to get one of the sources directly. We already put together our research materials; all we need to do now is put together our presentation.”

“You should’ve gone over the weekend when you had time,” Kisara scolded. She sipped the coffee and passed it on to him. “Really, you don’t have to go through all the trouble for extra credit, especially if it means missing class.”

Seto rejected the coffee and Kisara finished it off. He remembered: these were the people Mokuba had referred to before breakfast. These friends of his were in his anthropology class, in his project group. Funny how even in another life, he kept his ties to Egypt. Whatever happened in his life, a soul was a soul, and he was still the ancient priest on that minor note. That fact still annoyed him, even as he’d come to accept magic. A trip to the Domino Museum might be helpful.

“I’ll be back in class tomorrow. Here, take my project notes with you. I’ve already got an outline ready for the presentation.” Seto opened his bag and shuffled through until he found the project folder.

Mahad accepted it with an appreciative whistle. “Pretty heavy. Do me a favor and try to take it easy while you play hookie, Machi. Do something out of character for a change. Go to a game shop and goof off or hang around the mall downtown.”

Seto recalled all the times he’d ditched work at KaibaCorp to go gallivanting around Domino, America, and ancient Egypt with Atem. “I’ll try to hook up with a mummy. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“I still think you should forget about it and just go to class. Save an absence for when you really need it—like a day trip to the beach. It’s been so hot lately, I’ve thought about taking a day to go myself. It’s more worth the trouble than a trip to the museum.”

Mahad waggled a finger at her. “You’re too pale. You’ll get a sunburn and get caught.”

“I won’t get in trouble over a bit of a tan. They can’t prove I got it at the beach. And it’s not like a spray-on—I won’t be in violation of the dress code.”

“You won’t tan. You’ll burn.”

Seto wriggled his arm out of Kisara’s hold as the announcement came on for train arrivals. He checked his ticket and looked across the platform for his train. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “My train.”

“Wait. I’ll come along,” Mahad volunteered. “I could use a break from the lecture hall.”

“A break? Friday’s tomorrow.”

“So I’ll be well rested for the last day of classes,” he argued. “Come with us. If we all go together, we can say we were working on our project.”

“We _ are _ working on the project,” she replied. “Besides, we didn’t buy a ticket for Domino. We’re heading the other direction.”

“You two really don’t have to come. I’ll probably spend all day in the same room.” Seto expected as much. If Yugi knew about Atem, Seto could prove that he knew him in the other reality by talking to him directly about the pharaoh. There would be a lot to discuss; he planned to spend all day discussing it either at the game shop or in the museum. If it was there, the ancient tablet would be a convincing piece of evidence.

Mahad shrugged. “So we hide in the bathroom if a ticket man comes by or we say we were running late and pay the fee.”

“I just don’t want to draw any attention to us,” Kisara said, gripping her empty cup. “I don’t want to get into any trouble.”

The train’s doors opened and Seto jogged through. Let them bicker; he’d decide later if they were worth the trouble of keeping. Right now he was too mixed up to deal with them. His old memories and new memories were in conflict with one another. In this life, he was friendlier, more outgoing. It was foreign to the life he’d lived and the contradictory instincts were confusing him. He’d figure things out later once he’d had a chance to settle down. Maybe he’d eventually enjoy it. But for now, he had to find Atem.

Yugi stopped in his tracks, causing Teá to bump against him. “That uniform,” he said, a bit of awe in his voice.

Teá followed his gaze. Across the street on the opposite pavement, a boy in a stark white uniform was power walking up the hill toward their school. Her eyes went just as wide. “Wow. Isn’t that the uniform for the Go District Preparatory Academy?” she asked.

Ahead of them, Joey turned on his heels. “Go Prep? What’s one of those rich kids doing slumming down with us in Domino?”

“The guy looks kinda rough,” Tristan said. “Check out his face. That’s pretty tense.”

Joey shouldered his bag. “Think he’s got beef with some kid at school?”

“I doubt it. When was the last time you saw a Go Prep student walking around Domino in uniform?”

“You’re right. Those prep kids don’t like to get their uniforms all dirty. They could always dime out a couple of thugs to do their dirty work for them.”

The group watched him turn the corner before they continued. There was no doubt he was heading toward the school; it was the only real destination in their direction.

“I guess we’ll hear about it before the day is out,” Teá suggested. “These things tend to spread pretty quickly through the class. Still, I wonder if it _ is _ a fight. I can’t see why else he’d be in such a rush this early before classes start.”

Yugi gripped his straps tighter. His backpack felt suddenly heavy. “I just hope nobody’s in any trouble. I want to finish the school year with a clean slate: no incidents.”

“We’ve already had the practice graduation—in another week or two, we’ll be out of here,” Joey said. “I’ve already got myself a part time job lined up, application all filled out.”

Tristan groaned. “I’ll be working the shop with my dad after graduation until I can find something else to do.”

“I’ve got my ticket bought and waiting to take me to America. I’ve enrolled in a pretty good dance program. What will you do, Yugi?”

Yugi brightened up immediately. “Well, I’ve been thinking. I’ve always loved games, you know, and I’ve had a couple of ideas. I think I’d like to work for a gaming company, developing my own games. I’ve heard there are internships at Industrial Illusions.”

“Sounds great!”

Joey flung his arms dramatically in the air and closed his eyes. “I can picture it now: Introducing, Mega Monster Mash 3 by world famous game designer, Yugi M—!”

“Yugi Mutou!”

The group froze.

Yugi looked up at the school gate. There, waiting in the middle of the walk, was the Go Prep student they’d seen rushing up the hill. He was staring right back at him.

“Y-yes?” Yugi replied shakily.

The boy pointed an accusing finger towards him—toward the puzzle hanging around his neck. “I came to talk to you,” he said. “And to your friend: the one you call Yami.”

The group looked between one another in confusion.

“Who’s Yami?” Teá asked.

Yugi could only shake his head in response.

“Don’t play games to hide him,” Seto said. “I’m not a threat. I’ve come to see to it that the pharaoh doesn’t vanish this time.”

Tristan and Joey ducked in front of Yugi, fists raised for a fight.

Tristan fixed him with a steady glare. “Just take it easy, pal. We don’t want any trouble.”

“If you’ve got a bone to pick with Yugi, you’ll have to deal with us.”

“Easy, Wheeler. I’m not here to fight him. I just want to get a few things straight.”

“Sounds like a threat to me, buddy.”

Seto felt another headache coming on. This was getting to be a problem. “Listen. I don’t have a lot of time to figure things out right now. Your bell will ring in twenty minutes and then I’ll be stuck waiting for you until the end of the day, and in the meantime, I’m doing my best to avoid a couple of people I failed to ditch at the train station.”

“So whether or not you intend for there to be trouble, sounds like trouble’s following you.” Tristan stepped forward. “It thought it was strange to see one of you prep kids running around on your own. You’re not getting Yugi mixed up in whatever this is.”

“Seto! Seto Machi! Hey, Machi! Where are you?”

Seto turned in the direction of the voice. It was Mahad, not too far behind. He and Kisara must’ve split up to look for him after he escaped them at the last light.

“Ten minutes, Mutou!” he shoved between Tristan and Joey and grabbed Yugi’s arm, pulling him along after.

“H-hey! Wait a second!” Yugi protested, but Seto kept a firm grip and kept running.

“Yugi!”

“Let go of him, you bastard!”

“Get back here!”

Like it’d be that easy. Seto dragged him past the gate, toward the school. Before the other could even make it to the door, he was already up his first flight of stairs, headed toward the roof.

Yugi’s hands felt cold and clammy and his heart was racing in his chest. He tried to pull out of this stranger’s grip, but to no avail. His puzzle bounced heavily against his chest. “What do you want?” he panted. “I … I don’t even know you!”

“Maybe you don’t, but it’s not you I’m interested in whether or not _ you _ know me.”

“But I don’t know this Yuki you—”

“Yami.”

“I don’t know anybody called Yami!”

They burst through the rooftop door and Seto slammed it shut behind them. It was cold up in the breeze and Yugi’s uniform billowed out behind him. He backed away while Seto rested against the doorframe, catching his breath. But then Seto was advancing on him, pushing him toward the fence that surrounded the ledge.

“Enough of this game, Yugi,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I have to speak with him. Let him out, _ now _.”

“I don’t understand.”

Yugi’s foot hit the ledge. His back pushed against the fence. There was nowhere else to run to to get away and his heart throbbed against his ribs like a scared rabbit.

Seto pinned one of his hands against the crossing wires. All he needed was a minute. After so many months of waiting, he could accept a solitary stolen moment. If only to tell the pharaoh what he knew of the future that awaited him. If it was true that the pharaoh had yet to appear, then he had yet to be pursued by Marik and retrieve the god cards. There was time to prevent the ceremonial duel. With his free hand, he reached for the puzzle. He would see to it that the duel would not take place.

There was a sudden flash of light. Seto grunted and threw his hand up to shield his eyes. Then, when he opened them again, someone very different was trapped in his grasp.

“Seto Machi, is it?” the deep voice rumbled before him. “For the last time: what business do you have here? Have you come to steal my puzzle?”

If felt like a hand had been wrapped around his heart, squeezing, only to now release at hearing that voice. Seto placed a trembling hand on his shoulder. “Atem,” he whispered.

“My name is Yu—”

Seto cut him off with an impulsive kiss.

Atem grunted in surprise before biting hard on Seto’s bottom lip.

Seto yelped and stumbled as he was pushed away. His lip was stung painfully. He tasted something metallic on his tongue.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Atem shouted. He wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Seto said. He hadn’t meant to do that. Even so, he never imagined he’d react so strongly.

Atem crossed his arms, scowling defensively. “Now tell me: who the hell are you and what do you want?”

“It’s … ” Seto faltered. “I’m Kaiba. Seto Kaiba.”

“Kaiba? As in the Kaiba Corporation?”

Seto felt his legs begin to grow numb. No. Not anymore.

“That boy who was calling you, he called you Machi. What game is this?”

He realized then what he should’ve known before he so much as set foot out his front door. No Gozaburo, no money. No Blue Eyes White Dragons, no need to seek out the fourth. No duel with Yugi meant … no Yami. They had never met in this life. No matter what he knew, this perfect stranger had no connection to him. Even if he dragged him to the museum to stare at the ancient tablet, they had no relationship. To Atem, he didn’t exist until that very moment.

He fell to his knees.

“Hey, Machi? Machi!”

He was aware of Atem shaking him, but he was numb to it. This deal grew more and more bitter with every passing moment. Yugi didn’t know Atem. Atem hadn’t realized he was separated from Yugi. At least in his own world, he hadn’t been alone in his grief. He could accept that Atem didn’t know him, but to not know himself? To have lost that drive and determination? Everything Seto had admired in him was gone. This stranger he knew so well—he was a true stranger in the end.

Seto closed his eyes. He let himself be shaken. He didn’t want any part of this world.

“Kaiba!”

He jolted awake.

Yugi was staring down at him, his eyes wide with worry. The buzz of the stadium broke through the ringing in his ears.

“Kaiba, can you sit up?

He struggled and steadied himself with his hands braced against the glass platform.

“Here, lean on me. I’ll help you get to the stadium floor, then we can get you a doctor.”

Kaiba groaned and his head throbbed. “What happened?”

“Atem was here. He saved us from Aigami.”

Kaiba rose to his feet. “Where! Where is he?” he demanded, struggling to find Atem on the platform.

“He’s gone, Kaiba. He took the puzzle this time.” but Yugi smiled. “Even after I gave up, you still believed he’d come back.”

Kaiba recalled flashes of memory. Aigami had come back after his initial defeat. He and Yugi had duelled him together. But he’d been in the other world—were these, too, fake memories? But looking around, he saw he was home again. This world was his. Had it all been a dream?

Yugi shuffled his feet. “By the way. He left a message for you.”

Kaiba looked at him.

“‘Don’t ask me to undo the good you’ve done.’”

Kaiba chuckled. So, that had been his doing after all.

“Also, ‘Next time, there’ll be no bite to it.’ He said you’d know what it meant.”

Kaiba felt his bottom lip. There was no cut there anymore, but his face felt warm as the meaning of those words sunk in.

“Hey, Kaiba?”

He cleared his throat. “So, he’s so sure there’ll be a next time?”

“What’s it mean?”

Kaiba ignored him and started walking toward the control booth. He turned on his mic. “Rolland? Have a car ready for me. I want this stadium empty in the next half hour and my team at the lab to analyze that cube.”

“Cube? What cube? Kaiba! What did he mean!”

Kaiba turned and smirked. “It means, there’s a way to find him.” And he intended to find it _ soon. _


End file.
